


The Weymouth Affair

by petrarchbaelish



Category: Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell - Susanna Clarke
Genre: Epistolary, F/M, Gen, and a lovesick one he thinks, blatan jane austen ripoffs, but mostly just 19 and the Worst, mostly jonathan being a self centered jerk, underage just bc most of them are teenagers? getting married? no sex or itimacy happens on the page
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-15
Updated: 2016-05-15
Packaged: 2018-06-08 11:53:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6853546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/petrarchbaelish/pseuds/petrarchbaelish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I detest Weymouth. I spent one of the most miserable weeks of my life there. I was horribly in love with a girl called Marianne and she snubbed me for a fellow with an estate in Jamaica and a glass eye."</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Weymouth Affair

**Author's Note:**

> Clarke being her usual evocative, pithy self summed up an excellent story in two sentences and I thought I'd expand that a little. I can't say it went THAT well but there are bits I like, and I'm glad it's done. The fictional preface would be in Segundus's Letters and Miscellaneous Papers of Jonathan Strange, published four years after his biography of the same, The Life of Jonathan Strange. I'm sure Maria would have a kick out of publishing what amounts to Jonathan's teen angst bullshit on a national scale.

In the last ten years I have been bewildered, and oftener flattered, by the attentions paid to my absent cousin, Jonathan Strange. We who had not seen him since his adolescence were graced with his name in a great many papers, and enquiries as to his well-being have not yet abated, though it will be eight years since any one has seen him. In this period Mr Strange seems to have become something mythical, akin to his beloved Raven King, which I imagine would please him altogether too much. So it is with dearest affection that I contribute this packet of letters, from a summer in 1799, to Mr Segundus’s efforts collecting the _Letters and Miscellaneous Papers of Jonathan Strange_ , with a hope that England may know him as I have known him: as a feckless, much-beloved wastrel. The letters have been compiled chronologically, and in such a way that their narrative will become evident as one reads the usual tediums of wealthy young persons’ time in Weymouth.  I have only to add that I have neither amended nor expunged any thing from the letters, even when their contents would contrive to humiliate me in their portrait of a younger, more foolish girl.

                                                                                                                                Mrs Maria Sedgewick  
                                                                                                                                Edinburgh, February 1824

 

MISS ERQUISTOUNE TO MISS MANNING

                                                                                                                                Hardwick-Street

My dear Louisa,

We are at _last_ come to town (as you know I feared I would not arrive before you left, as Mother’s rheumatism plagued her so thoroughly) and let a house hardly any ways at all from the Esplanade; we are all well-settled here, and I intend to call on you at the earliest possibility, at _least_ before Mrs Wallace’s _soirée,_ for any particulars of that event will overtake all that come before it. The family are not altogether here, as we are attendant on a _very particular aim_. To that end I will of course offer a shining prospectus to any whom you should like to impress, and in kind I mean to recommend a _certain person_ in my company to you. Papa and Margaret remain in Edinburgh, being respectfully too old and too young to have any interest in Weymouth, nor any thing to offer. The house, then, contains my mother, Georgiana, myself, and Mr Jonathan Strange, a cousin on his mother’s side from Shropshire. His father’s estate is called Ashfair and generates some two thousand a year, and he is tolerably handsome; the only issue you may find is he is really a very unfixéd sort of person, who has few grievous faults but no remarkable virtue. Truly I cannot _too_ highly recommend him, but imagine our having a familial connexion, to mirror that which our hearts have founded! (And besides I have every confidence you, if anyone, could make something of him.) In any case you will certainly meet him at Mrs Wallace’s, for I know he will accompany us there, and you may see for yourself if there is anything of value in him. For my own prospects I do not expect a great deal. We have arrived _so_ late in the season that any man wishing to be married has _done so_ , leaving behind only rakes, paupers, and widowers; were I not so anxious for your company, Louisa, I would have advised we delay the trip until next year, for no amount of tenacity can repair the damage of newcoming, and however long I might be novel is exactly the time I may hold any attention whatever. Any how I am not brought low by the thought; an English town is sure to be full of English _beaux_ , and I am too much attached to Edinburgh to consider leaving it.

Here I will impart to you some strictest confidence on that matter, for there is _some_ hope for me this season, if not immediately. The journey from Edinburgh to Weymouth is very long and naturally we were obliged to stop and rest by night several times in the course of it. At Carlisle we came upon some fellows of Jonathan’s acquaintance, Mr Forbes and Mr Sedgewick—at least he behaved in a manner to impart some idea of _prolonged intimacy of feeling_ , as they stayed up to-gether until very late in the evening and, as my cousin spoke to me in the hall before going himself to sleep, I am _quite certain_ they drank _sherry_. But prior to this we were all sat down at supper, and with mother for chaperone were able to speak at length. It seems these two gentlemen are also determined to spend the season at Weymouth and are only inhibited by a _recent lack of_ _cash_ , which they assured us was very temporary as they had written both to their families and thus hoped for a stipend within the next few days. Of course from this you may think them the most profligate and unworthy of gentlemen, to so readily admit their spendthrift and easy ways, but does it not, Louisa, impart some honesty? Being on their first excursion untended by family or other responsible acquaintance, misjudged what they would require in the journey, and cannot be faulted for such error! _I_ certainly see no harm in it, as from their attitudes additional funds were easily extracted, and I was not _uninterested in the implication._   And so I expect these two to be a regular, _Scottish_ feature among our society here within the week—I tell you all this, of course, knowing you would be no more interested in a Scotsman, however wealthy, than I an Englishman; if this is _not_ so, I will only say it is fortuitous there are _two_.

I am really determined to see you perhaps two days before Mrs Wallace’s party, you know my frame much better than my sister who has no eye for fabric, or my mother who believes so strongly in the importance of long stays, and I _must_ have some one of a good mind to consider my accoutrements for the evening: whiteworked muslin and a green ribbon, which of course may change. (I am also greatly interested in a _turban_ , if you know where one is to be found.) Write to me quickly and at length, my dear; waste no time and spare me no detail, unless it be too intimate for the page.

                                                                                                                                Yours ever,  
                                                                                                                                      Maria

 

MR STRANGE TO MR WOODHOPE

                                                                                                                                Hardwick-Street

Henry,

I can tell you with great certainty that Weymouth is dull as any of the by-lanes in Clun & worse still from the heat. Not even the sea, which one may view at any interval from the house, holds any interest, so swarmed is it by stragglers of the season—the gentlemen are too much like myself, and have no interesting discourse; the ladies are mad-eyed & clawing for matrimony. Besides that I have no great desire to be wed--a condition which Mrs Erquistoune doggedly ignores--upon hearing one is not in possession of personal fortune—owing perhaps to the steadfast breathing of an obstinate and ill-tempered parent, which none seem to view as the tragedy it ought to be—one is no longer a presence by them to be bourne. (Addendum to which, were I a worthy sort of suitor, I know very well Mr Strange would have none of it and annul any attachment by force of will.) I do not think myself a dishonourable sort of person, but it strikes me that intercourse at the start of the season is so much more excusable than that at the end.

Still more darkening any pleasure of mine, I am to return to Shropshire by the end of September, and I feel it will mean my permanent installation there, which I have no inclination whatever to do. There is such a miserable finality to these months that I hardly think I shall bear leaving the house. Maria is insistent that I attend some festivity to-night at the home of Mrs Wallace, where I shall know nobody & care not to meet any one, but the power of three persistent women of one’s family is impossible to overcome and as disagreeable as I wish to be, I will not disappoint them. I will have some solace in time—Lucas Forbes & Joseph Sedgewick beat the same track as us, though at a much more meandering pace, being alone & eager to enjoy the travel as much as the destination. To be with them, rather than confined here! Forbes offered that I might join them, but as I would be entirely dependent upon their generosity with no ready means of recompense, I unhappily declined. Still I spent a diverting evening with them in Carlisle & am much edified by their company. Forbes means to enter the Navy, a sound venture considering the standing with France & his own consequence certainly wanting some prestige. I think he will do very well in it & told him so. Sedgewick says he will be following his father’s business in law, which I thought a very fine prospect but does not seem to please him. Knowing what I do of fathers and their wishes I can only assume the fellow is being coerced on consequence of losing his inheritance, or some other such nefarious parental scheme; he does have two younger brothers. Still! A gainful employment would be better than this constant fluttering from place to place. I cannot say I like it, yet every effort to do aught else is somehow frustrated & the opportunity lost for ever. If I _am_ to find some matrimonial fate here, what will she think of this eternal perambulation? No more than I do, though I do not flatter myself in saying I carry it off pretty well.

We are leaving shortly & I mean to post this before the evening coach departs; as I suspect I shall be there soon enough, inform me straightaway if there is any cravat, book, or some thing of that kind, which you think I might have a better chance finding than yourself—and if there are any pieces of music which might compel your sister to practice the pianoforte, as you complained of her obstinacy in that matter & she will not improve without practice. My cousins for their part are infatuated with the instrument; I can hear one of them at this very moment. One hopes the music at Mrs Wallace’s will be superior, as they play perfectly well for private audience but have no sense of timing to speak of.

                                                                                                                                Faithfully,  
                                                                                                                                J. Strange.

MR STRANGE TO MR WOODHOPE

                                                                                                                                Hardwick-Street

I am much distressed that this letter may be so much as a day delayed after the last, for nothing could be more disparate than my attitude mere hours ago to that which possesses me now. All I said—my dreary outlook, my pitiable state of affairs—all may be considered spurious and long in the past, for I have made a most enchanting acquaintance, who may very well temper all such sorrows & soften the blows life will strike upon me. Oh! I cannot praise her enough, I cannot know her enough, and yet in one evening’s conversation I feel I have had with her a lifetime of intimacy; her slightest word penetrates me & makes my soul weak as water. All my concerns about the quality of Mrs Wallace’s party were absolutely moot; the crowd were invisible to me, and I did not hear the slightest strain of music beyond the drumming of my blood, and above it the melody of her sweet voice. Some may say it is foolish at nineteen for a young man of little employment to attach himself so readily, when his finances and prospects may in a short turn improve, but what is sense to the will of the heart? If Mr Strange has his way I will not change in the least; and as I have found perfect happiness where he had none, I am encouraged tenfold to act. But this is all in shambles, for I am affected by profound sensibility, and lost to myself. Rest will order my thoughts, and I will lose no more time in despatching this note first thing.

_Later_

Having slept and in good health, I am still deeply affected by all that has transpired, yet I _must_ tell someone of my joy, and will recount to you all that happened. As I wrote previously I was in very low spirits upon leaving for Mrs Wallace’s; I said very little in the carriage, only answering one or two enquiries about the weather, Sedgewick (after whom my cousin Maria was very eager to ask),  & the most superficial remarks about town. I was quite prepared to make myself odious and sequester in some distant corner with rheumatic old persons & rally with them in our mutual disregard for these practitioners of civility, but found my cousin had other plans for me. I was introduced to her particular friend Miss Manning, whom I hardly remember at all, save that she has very black hair & a very long neck, which gave the impression that I was conversing with a street-lamp or a very animated tree. This morning Maria chided me for being so churlish with her, that I had quite ruined my standing in Miss Manning’s eyes, which leads me to think Maria had her own designs on my success here. But they do not matter now. I have met Miss Marianne Finchley, and Venus herself could not tempt me away. After the dissatisfying conversation with Miss Manning, I espied her across the room, talking and laughing gaily with a group of well-dressed companions; yet none could match her in natural grace, beauty, or charm, and in truth I could not tell you if the crowd about her were men or women. She is a young lady of some sixteen or seventeen years, with softly curling auburn hair, clear dark eyes, and a soft, rounded figure. I knew immediately I needed to speak with her, and claim the very nearest dance I could, and so made a slight effort to locate Mrs Wallace and obtain an introduction but, finding her absent, took it upon myself to do the honour, as it was too important to risk our never crossing paths again.  All went well, and she was not perturbed in the least by my boldness, else she has such excellent manners as not to appear so, which would come as no surprise to me.

She agreed in short order to dance the very next turn with me, the allemande; though you do not know dances so well as you might, Henry, you can recognize that it is one better-suited to light conversation than any. However we did not long speak lightly; very soon we had begun whole accounts of ourselves, in fullest candor, and when the musicians played their last found we had better dance again, or retire elsewhere to continue this most pleasing discussion. We chose the latter and fled to Mrs Wallace’s terrace, overlooking the dark sea at some distance. Thankfully we were not the only persons outside, but better still we were attended by none of our fellow guests. “Is it not a queer thing,” she said to me, gazing out over the railing, which cast her in a most appealing golden light from the house, “that I feel as though we have been absolutely alone, though I see the other people here very clearly?” That her perspicacity of my feelings was so thorough as to voice them exactly astounded me into humbled silence; I could only mutter that yes, it seemed exactly so. “The king himself could offer his ring to me,” I told her, “and I do not think I would pay him any heed.” She thought this very droll and found good sport considering whether ignoring the king’s introduction was an act of treason, and before long we noticed the crowds in the house had thinned to almost nothing, and the Erquistounes wished to return home to Hardwick-street, which I only agreed to do as Marianne had invited me to call upon her (and I shall do so to-morrow; I have great cause to hope).

                                                                                                                                J.S.

MISS ERQUISTOUNE TO MISS MANNING

                                                                                                                                Hardwick-street

Sweet Louisa,

Jonathan has all but ruined my sojourn in Weymouth. After the _débacle_ he made of himself at Mrs Wallace’s, I do not expect you to have much regard for my cousin; I only hope any disdain does not extend to _me_ who had only the greatest hopes of _your continued happiness_ and perhaps a closer bond between ourselves. Naturally I am _exceedingly disheartened_ by Jonathan’s conduct and would tell him so if he had an ear for any thing but Miss Finchley, of whom he will never cease talking. As this change of affairs is as distressing to myself as it might be for you, and I cannot expect you to call upon me with such an _objectionable person in the house_ , I implore you to consider coming to my rescue. Your dear Aunt did mention room for a guest, and I simply _cannot abide_ listening to my cousin’s pining when it is so detestable to me, in kind and origin.

I will hardly burden you with the extent of all he has said, only that he seems insensible to any question which does not regard _her_ and answers all enquiries as though they were. On the whole it is a distressing state, and while Georgiana and mother may be able to withstand it, I am brought too low with thoughts of what might have been had he only taken such interest in the _superior lady_ introduced to him. It is most vexing to hear him consider nothing but her character, desires, appearance and interests—he is speaking endlessly of this lady whom you and I met at the same instant, _which is to say yesterday_ , as though their engagement is well assured, and he is not simply another suitor in what is surely a cavalcade of many (for even I must own to Miss Finchley’s good looks, but what are those among everything else?). Take pity on your poor friend, who must so suffer the follies of her relations!

                                                                                                                                With love,  
                                                                                                                                Maria

P.S. Apparently he means to _call upon her_. I wish him the gravest of disappointment in it.

 

MR STRANGE TO MISS ERQUISTOUNE

                                                                                                                                Hardwick-street

Dear Maria,

I hope you have every comfort at Gloucester-street to your liking, cousin, and Miss Manning holds your attention as ever. She seemed good company & on excellent terms with yourself; I expect you will have every happiness with such a dear friend to attend your solicitudes. In your absence, I have no such confidant in the house, and am in want of your mastery of the human heart—who better knows the ways of ladies & whom could I better trust to guide my affections? I called upon Miss Finchley to-day & must have your feelings on what occurred.

I called early, at one-o’clock, and the footman who received me informed me I was very welcome, but Mrs & Miss Finchley were at present entertaining another gentleman, Mr Russell-Price. He is a tall fellow somewhat past thirty, very much weathered by the sun, with one eye, the other being of glass, giving the queer sensation that he does not look only at you when conversing. His prospects unnerve me: he has made a vast fortune growing sugar in Jamaica and, retaining that estate, has returned to England to find a suitable wife, and as the plantation is in reliable hands, may take his time & pick of any number of ladies willing to bear the climate of the West Indies for the comforts however-many thousands will provide. Yet while Mrs Finchley was extremely attentive of him, and complimented his every thought and action, Marianne—dear Marianne!—did not seem to share the fascination. She and I played piquet for almost the duration of the visit, talking of nothing in particular, and shared some raillery at Mr Russell-Price’s expense, some of which he must have heard. I have won the daughter, I know, but how to sway her family’s favour to me! Were I only so acquainted with the Finchleys as I am the Erquistounes, it would be simple; if I proposed to you, there would be no fuss whatever, and none of this wretched anxiety! In all other respects I would not exchange my mother’s family for the world, but in this, I could be persuaded. I eagerly await your thoughts on the matter & pray you reply with all haste.

                                                                                                                                Your loving

                                                                                                                                Jonathan Strange

 

MISS ERQUISTOUNE TO MR STRANGE

                                                                                                                                Gloucester-street

Jonathan,

I only write you a few lines to say I have given your letter _no thought_ whatever and never intend to do otherwise. I _have_ tried to guide your affections, to a most _worthy lady_ , and you refused to consider her. What arrogance, to ask so much of me when your actions declare _no regard_ for me or my heart! If all you say of Mr Russell-Price is true, he will have the same prospects at eighty-five as he does at present; which is to say _infinitely better than yours_. Miss Finchley is lost to you, Miss Manning is lost to you, and I shall require _extensive contrition_ before I deign to ever speak to you again. I will waste no more effort on your account than that.

                                                                                                                                Your humble servant,

                                                                                                                                Miss Maria Erquistoune

 

MRS ERQUISTOUNE TO MR ERQUISTOUNE

                                                                                                                                Hardwick-street

My dearest,

The girls are very well, and I have suffered no rheumatic symptoms since leaving them behind in Charlotte-square. Maria has gone to stay as a guest of Miss Manning, a particular friend who Georgiana tells me she was determined to have married to Jonathan—as all girls seem to take it upon themselves to make matches for every one else before securing themselves. For his part Jonathan is entirely taken with a Miss Finchley, and speaks of her at great length, and so Maria has taken her leave of us all. It is most distressing, you may guess why, to see such a rift form between them, but I am sure in my notion that none of it will last. Maria is of a forgiving nature, though she may not admit it to herself, in regards to her cousin, and Jonathan has never staid fixated for long. Besides this, circumstances contrive against _this_ Mrs Strange ever existing; I have it on good authority that she is all but promised to a very wealthy man from the West Indies who has been in the family’s acquaintance since April. From all I have heard of this man, he seems almost _too_ eligible—I may be of partial opinion against him but I have very little faith in the story. He _claims_ to possess a vast estate in Jamaica, but who can prove such a thing? (He is also missing an eye, and I can think of no honourable way of this occurring, unless he was in the Military, which no-one has said he was.)

I am working diligently in finding _prudent_ matches for the children, and have found some gentlemen from excellent families whom I must contrive to introduce to our household before the season ends. As Maria feared a number of them are still rakehells with no employment or household as yet, but establishing a connexion _now_ to return to within the next few years can do no harm. There is a Mr Baird of some consequence, with whom I believe you have done some business. If you have any deeper insight to the man’s character, or any caution to offer before I extend invitations, do send them.

Send my affections to little Margaret, and please! keep her to her studies. You are so often distracted, and she will tramp Miss Drummond under her feet if left alone. Remember also to give the wages to Duncan before the 20th, and if you are going to invite any one to sup at Charlotte-square, _tell_ Mrs Gibb, that she might prepare something satisfactory.

Weymouth is very warm and pleasant, but I still miss our little house. Keep it in good order, my dear.

                                                                                                                                Your Phoebe

 

MISS FINCHLEY TO MR STRANGE

                                                                                                                                Crescent-street

Dear Sir,

I offer sincerest acknowledgement and gratitude of your friendship toward me these last days, offered so candidly with such good-will. I cannot possibly account for what in me drew such honest, warm regard, and I will always think on our brief acquaintance with great fondness. I can only hope there was no misapprehension of my feeling toward you; but if I have been so unfortunate as to give rise to a belief of more than I felt, or meant to express, I shall reproach myself for not having been more guarded in my professions of that esteem. That I should ever have meant more you will allow to be impossible, when you understand that my affections have been long engaged elsewhere, and it will not be many weeks, I believe, before this engagement is fulfilled. Regretfully, I shall not see you again; you have met my fiancé, Mr Russell-Price, and we depart within the week to be wed at Eastleigh before returning to Kingston. I wish you well, and offer once more my heartfelt thanks and appreciation of your charming acquaintance here.

                                                                                                                                Your faithful and humble servant,

                                                                                                                                Marianne Finchley

 

 

 

MR STRANGE TO MISS ERQUISTOUNE

                                                                                                                Hardwick-street

Maria,

Rejoice, for all your reprobation has come to its just conclusion: Miss Finchley is engaged & not to myself. She claims she has been engaged—see attached—for this season and longer! No mention was made of an arrangement between them, nothing but her mother’s simpering, and why would the lady be so keen to charm him, if all was previously settled? I am so filled with doubt & bitterness—was our affection simply amusement for her, to toy with the feelings of an earnest country gentleman while she still might? She could not be so calculating! Or, worse still, is she coerced to write so coldly to me, to be married and sail away to Jamaica from whence I shall surely never see her return? She has severed all ties, and I will never know the truth of it!

My thoughts are all over contrariness, as my hatred for the union bids me wish every unhappiness, misfortune and ill-luck upon them, but my regard for Marianne implores I wish her all the best & hope no harm befalls her. Yet what remains for me in Weymouth now? This city has touched me so profoundly, I do not think I will be able to regard it with the same good humour I had previous. Georgiana & your mother know my plans already, but I write to tell you I leave Weymouth as soon as I am able, to nurse these grievous wounds while I am still welcome in Charlotte-square. I am cut to the soul; may the comforts of a kind home grant me some respite from this agony. Adieu! Adieu! Adieu!

                                                                                                                                With affection, your cousin,

                                                                                                                                Jonathan Strange


End file.
